


Pillowtalk

by kangeiko



Series: Pillowtalk [1]
Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Community: fanfic100, M/M, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-15
Updated: 2007-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-08 02:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kangeiko/pseuds/kangeiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Londo and G'Kar have a post-coital conversation. Companion piece to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/71775/">War Crimes</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillowtalk

  
"Curious," Londo murmured drowsily.

"What is it, Mollari?" It was three in the morning, station-time. By all that is right and holy, talking should not be allowed to occur at this hour. Briefly, G'Kar wondered if it would be acceptable to silence Londo in some non-lethal way. Say, smothering him with his own pillows until he passed out.

Not that G'Kar would gain any pleasure from that, of course. But they had another Council meeting early on and, really, Londo had to be the only being on the face of the universe that wanted to _talk_. Not about anything important, mind you - talking about important, classified things during the post-coital glow was practically a requirement in dealing with the Centauri - but to simply _talk_. Although, to be fair, it was hard to tell what was important or trivial when it came to this particular Centauri. Thus far, he had gone on at some length about an ancestor of his who had kept a wonderful garden, and had been executed it for it by the then-emperor in a fit of jealousy. This didn't surprise G'Kar particularly, given what he knew of Centauri emperors, but he said nothing. This ancestor's remaining family had burned the garden in memory of their patriarch's passing (and, Londo speculated, to keep it out of the emperor's hands).

"An interesting story, I'm sure," G'Kar had said at the time.

Londo frowned at him in the darkness. "It occurs to me that I would perhaps have liked a garden, G'Kar."

G'Kar had tried to think this through but, no, whichever way you looked at it, it made no sense. "Why?"

Londo had been silent for a long while. Then, "it doesn't matter."

G'Kar had let the matter drop, but it had nagged at him. Come morning, he had asked about it to be met with a blank stare.

And so it went on: pointless anecdotes and speechifying and endless prattle, and G'Kar shook himself awake for it each and every accursed night, trying to sort through the verbal debris. "What is curious?" He asked, finally, weary.

Londo prodded the centre of G'Kar's chest. "It is curious that you do not have much feeling here."

G'Kar really wanted to get back to sleep. "Not all species are built as the Centauri, you know. This must have come as a great shock to your race, so focused are you on your own reflections..."

"Our reflections are fair enough to merit it," Londo said, unperturbed. He stroked again, his fingers splaying out slowly, fingerpads investigating the hard, defined muscles spanning G'Kar's chest.

In truth, G'Kar barely felt the touch, and so it came as a shock to suddenly jolt awake to the feeling of Londo's inquisitive fingers at his side. "What are you doing?" He hissed and wriggled free.

Londo's look was throughful as his touch returned to the centre of G'Kar's chest. "And yet you are sensitive at your sides. Most peculiar, don't you think? Most bipedal species have equal, if not greater, sensitivity in the central areas of the torso."

This was definitely a conversation that fell into the 'not important' category. Or, rather, it was important, but insofar as G'Kar being able to wriggle himself free of it. "Not all Narn are the same," he said finally, grasping for something more final and coming up empty. "Can this exploration of yours possibly wait for a more reasonable hour, Mollari?" Nothing. "Mollari?"

"Of course," Londo said quietly. He was silent for a moment then, seeming to pull himself together, humour entered his voice in a manner so artificial he may as well have yodelled. "I'll leave you to your beauty sleep, G'Kar - the Great Maker knows, you need it."

"Finally," G'Kar muttered, and closed his eyes.

He managed to last all of three minutes. "Well?"

"Well, what?" Londo mumured.

"Well, are you  just going to let it drop?" _Or spring it on me at some other point, when you judge me to be even more susceptible than I am now?_

Londo opened his eyes and looked at him, surprised. He propped himself up on one elbow. "I will not speak of it again, G'Kar," he said, slowly and quietly.

G'Kar studied what he could see of his expression in the near-total darkness. "Why?"

Londo rolled his eyes. "Great Maker, you are dense. _Because you want me to, _you great lumpen idiot!" He flopped back down and pulled the covers up over his head. "I'm going to sleep, now, G'Kar. Waking me will incur my continuous ill-humour during breakfast."

_Centauri!_, G'Kar had been about to say, exasperated, but it was really only, _Londo! _Which was something else entirely, it appeared.

He rolled over and tugged some of the covers free of Londo's grasp. "Stop stealing all of the covers, they are not worlds for your kind to claim," he muttered.

"Thief," Londo mumbled back, but surrendered a bit of fabric.

"Hedonist."

"I'm not the one cuddling."

"No, you're the one sleeping in silks."

"And you're the one stealing them."

"Be quiet. I'm going to sleep, now."

"Great Maker, would you _shut up??_"

*

fin


End file.
